by K. C. Crowne
He continued arguing with the person on the other end of the phone and it was clear he was getting nowhere. Eventually, I just took the phone from his hand. Pressing it to my ear, I spoke calmly to the dispatcher. I gave her my name, precinct, and badge number.
“Yes, this is officer Spencer,” I said, doing my best to sound official. “I'm a friend of the missing person and I'm on the scene.”
The dispatcher calmly reiterated to me what she'd told Seth – that without any signs of a struggle, there was nothing they could do, especially, so soon. The condescending tone in her voice grated on me. She spoke to me like I should know better – and I did. But, I had to do something. She was right though, without signs of a struggle and not knowing how long he'd been gone, their hands were tied. Had Chris been missing for some time, maybe they would have taken it a little more seriously and sent some detectives to have a look. As far as we knew though, he'd only been gone a short while. Definitely not long enough to say for sure he wasn't on a run or a date.
I disconnected the call with a sigh and handed the phone back to Seth.
“Is someone coming out tonight?” Liam asked.
“There's nothing they can do,” I said solemnly. “There's nothing anyone can do but wait at this point. I mean, I hate to say it, but the dispatcher was right. Until we know for sure that he’s been gone for 48 hours, they won’t even label him missing.”
Liam shook his head, and I just stared into those deep blue eyes. Back when I met him the for first time, he'd been your typical All-American apple pie kind of guy. Played football. Joined the Corps just like his daddy had. Even now, he reminded me of that wholesome kid I knew way back when. But, his dimples were hidden by a short, neatly trimmed beard and he looked more masculine and filled out than he had back then. “There's got to be something – ” he said.
“Not the police, no. Their hands are tied. But, I promise you that we'll look into it. We'll figure out what in the hell is going on,” I said. “Jason, you're off tomorrow?”
“I am,” he said.
“I'm off in the morning,” I said. “Let's head into Chris's office and see if anyone there has heard from him. If we can find out when he worked last and that sort of thing, we may be able to put together a timeline and hopefully, track his movements.”
“Sounds like a plan,” he said.
“But what about tonight?” Seth asked.
“We can try calling Julia and see if she – ”
“No, he'd hate us forever if we got his ex involved,” Seth said.
He was right. Chris wouldn't want us calling Julia. He wouldn't want us dragging her into his business. But, the possibility existed that they were together, and we had to consider that possibility. The relationship ended badly, but there was always a chance the two of them could have made up..
Gently with my knuckle, I reached down and hit the home button on his phone, to see when the last text alerts he got were received. All of them were from earlier that day and nothing at all revealing. Just us messaging him, asking him where he was at. Nothing later than that. Which meant he probably hadn't been gone too long, and maybe the cops were right – maybe he had just left for the evening without his phone. Unlikely, but not impossible. We headed back out of the room and toward the front door. The condo was eerily quiet, adding to the deep sense of unease running through all of us.
“I think I'm going to wait here a bit longer,” Seth said. “Just in case he comes back, you know?”
I nodded. It made sense. Seth lived nearby. It was an easy Uber drive home. Liam chimed in. “Yeah, I think I'll stick around too,” he said. “I can always get my car from your place tomorrow.”
“I'm sure he's fine,” I said. “Chris is just weird about breakups sometimes. We all know that.”
A chill ran through my body as the words passed my lips though. Even I didn't believe those words myself. My military training and my cop instincts were on high alert, but I was trying not to panic the others.
“You're probably right, but we'll stick around,” Liam said. “Just to be sure.”
I nodded. “Sounds like a plan,” I said. “Let me know if he comes home, otherwise we'll plan on heading over to his company tomorrow morning.”
2
Jason
Mallory didn't speak much on the drive back over to her place. Her body was stiff, and she stared out the window with her eyes narrowed and her jaw clenched tightly. Her auburn hair was cut short in a bob that framed her delicate face. She tried hard not to appear fragile or soft – and at her core, she was anything but those things. Yet, she still had a feminine, soft face that disrupted her would-be hardass personality.
You could look at that sweet, girl-next-door face of hers and underestimate Mallory. But, only if you didn't actually look into those soft blue eyes of hers, which were full of fire and revealed just how tough of a woman she was.
When we pulled up to her house, she turned in her seat and asked, “Want to come in for a bit? Not like we're getting much sleep tonight anyway.”
“Sure,” I said.
I parked the truck, and we walked inside together. She was still quiet and tense. Despite the positive attitude she tried to keep, I knew she was still worried. We both were. Once inside her house, she went into the kitchen and grabbed a couple of beers, coming back out and tossing me one. We plopped down on the couch and she turned to me.
“Wanna watch something on TV?” she asked.
“Not really,” I said, taking a long drink from the bottle. “You?”
“No. I couldn't focus on it anyway,” she said.
The beautiful smile that normally graced her face was turned down into a deep frown. She was scowling and staring off in the distance, completely mentally absent at the moment. Even so, she was still one of the most gorgeous women I'd ever seen. She always had been to me. I'd thought so from the first time I ever laid eyes on her all those years ago.
We'd tried dating – well, we went on one date. I was too much of a fuckup at the time to realize what an awesome woman she was and what I could have had. But, as I grew older, I could see it for myself. We'd kissed just once, but sometimes, I still remembered the way her lips felt on mine. So soft. So sweet. So warm.
I wasn't the only one of the guys who had eyes for her, though, and that was another reason we stayed apart. No one wanted drama in our little group. It was better if we all remained friends – as hard as it was to keep things strictly platonic sometimes.
“I wish they'd call,” she said, standing up suddenly and pacing the living room. “Let us know he came back. Something. Anything. This lack of – anything – is driving me bananas.”
“Yeah, me too,” I said. “He's never been this upset about a girl before. It's unusual.”
“He's never been that serious about a girl before either,” she said. “Not since – well, you know.”
I did know. Chris had a thing for Mallory, just like all of us had at one time or another. They'd attempted dating too – at least, early on before we all became as close as we were. It was clear Chris was into her though, just as he was into any woman he dated. He loved too much and too fast sometimes. When the two of them broke up – because Mallory was feeling justifiably smothered – it didn't go all that well and it almost tore us all apart.
It was tough and a long time coming, but he eventually got over it. But at the time, he’d refused to hang out with us, didn't return any of our calls – the same shit we thought he was pulling now. Except, of course, his phone wasn't even with him and he'd left his car behind. That didn't seem like him. Like everybody these days, he was glued to his phone all day, every day. He never went anywhere without it, so seeing it sitting there on his table the way it was, the alarm bells in my head started ringing immediately.
“Maybe we should call Julia. ”
“Tomorrow. If he's not back by tomorrow, we'll get her involved,” Mallory said. “Otherwise, if we're overreacting, he'd hate us for reaching out to her.”
/> She was right, he would be pissed if we pulled Julia into this – but I didn't think we were overreacting. Neither did Mallory, clearly, but she was trying to remain calm and keep a level head. Count on Mal to always have her shit together and her wits about her when the shit was hitting the fan. It was what made her a good soldier and a good cop.
“Hey, do you remember that time Chris got drunk and fell asleep in the bathroom at that shitty ass bar?” she said, chuckling to herself. “We were so worried he fell into the damn ocean.”
“Yeah, and how Liam found him after going to take a piss?” I said. “I'll never forget that look of relief on his face.”
“God, he's given us a few scares, hasn't he?” she said.
“He has,” I replied. “More than a few, if we're being honest here.”
Speaking of being honest, even I had to admit – if only to myself – that Chris had never been the most stable guy around. He'd been my best friend for as long as I could remember, and as long as I'd known him, he'd always struggled with his emotions. More so than most guys. He was a little wild too, unpredictable and pretty much always doing whatever the hell he wanted to do.
Going off the grid wasn't that unusual in and of itself. At least, not to me. But, leaving his phone and car behind was another story entirely.
“What time should we head over?” I asked.
Chris worked security at IHS Global, some sort of financial and securities firm. I knew very little about the company except that the owners seemed to be loaded and needed someone to protect the place – not that Chris had much actual protecting to do, and pretty much just stood around and looked scary. Something that was easy for him to do. He was a big guy – still kept himself in the kind of toned, hard shape he'd gotten during his years in the Corps – and he was six-foot-seven. He was able to make people piss themselves with nothing more than a glare, even though he was a big softy at heart.
“Maybe first thing? They open at eight, I'm assuming?” Mallory said.
“Yeah, I assume so.”
“If you want, you can crash here,” she said, finishing her beer. “I think I'm going to try and get some sleep, thought I doubt I will. My brain won’t shut the fuck up.”
She reached for my empty bottle at the same time I did, our hands briefly came into contact with each other. She stopped, her hand resting against mine. I so badly wanted to take her hand in mine, to clasp it fully and pull her against me. I didn't though, managing to just barely resist the urge .
Her blue eyes sparkled, and she licked her lips, and the urge to kiss her was overwhelming.
I stood up and I towered over her. She was only five-foot-four, meaning, I was a foot taller than her. Yet, I felt her breath on my cheek and for a second, it seemed like she'd pressed herself into me a little harder than normal and her eyes burned with something more, something we'd been trying to deny for a long time.
“I should probably go,” I stammered.
The blood in my body raced southward and I felt selfish for even thinking about sleeping with Mallory while our friend was missing. Still, my body betrayed me, and I grew hard in my jeans despite the situation. I tried to adjust myself, but it was no use.
Mallory wasn't looking down there, though. Thankfully. Her eyes were locked on mine. Beautiful and delicate, her auburn hair fell like a perfect framed around her delicate oval face. Without thinking, I reached over and stroked her cheek, pushing a tendril of hair behind her ear. She smiled.
“I always like when you do that,” she said.
“Maybe I need to do it more often,” I teased.
She stood on her tiptoes and at first, I thought she was going for my lips. Instead, she brushed her lips along my cheek and whispered softly.
“Goodnight, Jason.”
Her tight little body was pressed against me now, the bulge in my pants against her. There was no way of hiding it. I closed my eyes and swallowed, trying to resist the urge to reach out and touch her some more. Instead, it only heightened my other senses. The way she felt against me. The scent of sweet vanilla in her hair. The feel of her hands on me. It all only served to arouse me even more.
She stepped back, giving me my space and inviting me to leave, even though I wanted to feel her against me even more than before. She looked hurt, just a little, but also relieved. She nodded, but when she spoke, her voice was soft, yet still firm.
“Stay,” she said. “The guest room is made up.”
I knew I shouldn’t stay. The temptation was too much, and I thought the only way to cope with it was to remove myself from it. With everything going on though, I wanted to reach out to her even more. Wanted to feel her warm body pressed to mine. Yet, I also felt bad that I thought about sex at a time like that. What kind of a friend was I?
I should go home, I told myself. But Mallory headed off toward her room, leaving me alone in the living room with nothing but my thoughts and a rock-hard cock. Once she was gone, I could finally breathe again. I took a few deep breaths, willing my dick to behave itself.
Staying, in the guest room, would be fine. Absolutely no reason I couldn't remain in control, as long as she was in her room and I was in mine.
* * *
IHS Holdings was downtown and was as typical and unremarkable as every other office building in the area. The San Diego sun beat down upon us as I parked the truck near the entrance. It was just after eight in the morning and there had still been no sign of Chris at his place. Seth even stayed the night in case Chris came home, which he never did.
“Doesn't Julia work nearby too?” Mallory asked.
“Yeah, somewhere around here,” I said. “Just not sure which building or company.”
Chris had never said where Julia worked – just that he met her at work and she worked nearby. Neither of us knew what she really looked like either. All we saw were the very few photos of her that he'd shared. None of us had ever met this mystery woman – which was odd in and of itself.
There was always some reason he couldn't get us all together – she was too busy with work or she was sick. It just never panned out in the three or four months they'd been dating. I'd figured she was just nervous about meeting with us, knowing how close we were. I kind of figured that maybe worried about not impressing us. That or she just didn't care. Without ever meeting the woman, it was hard to know – and Chris certainly never really shed any light on the situation.
Mal and I walked toward the front door of the building together, not exactly sure where to go once we got inside. There was a security guard standing beside the door, but it wasn't Chris. I looked over at Mallory and nodded my head in the guard’s direction.
“Hey, we're looking for our friend,” I said. “A guy who works security here too.”
The man was as tall as Chris but was much bulkier and scarier looking. There was an edge and a hardness about him that, despite being a Marine, Chris didn't have. The guard scowled down at us.
I continued. “Name is Chris Sturgeon.”
“No one by that name works here,” the man said, turning his gaze away from us. He stared just past us, as if we weren't even there.
“You're with IHS, correct?” Mallory said.
He nodded.
“Then yes, there is a man named Chris Sturgeon who works with you. Maybe not the same shift as you, but he does work here.”
“Listen, sweetheart – ”
“Don't call me sweetheart,” Mallory said, her tone cold, her jaw tightening.
If there was one thing Mallory hated, it was pet names. She felt they were condescending and snide. Especially, from guys who didn't know her. She managed to keep her voice calm though, even though you could see it in her eyes that she wanted to rip the guy a new one, even if he was over a foot taller than her. I wouldn't have laid money against her in that fight, either. Mallory looked like a sweet girl, but she could take you apart limb by limb if you were stupid enough to underestimate her.
“Since you're obviously not willing to help us, we'l
l find someone who can,” she said.
She stepped toward the door when the guard moved to the side with an unexpected nimbleness and blocked her with his arm.
“Sorry, only authorized personnel only beyond this point,” he said.
“Authorized personnel?” I scoffed. “It's a fucking office building, not Fort Knox.”
Truth be told, I had no idea what the company was or what they were about. I assumed it was the same as any other financial company, doing boring financial bullshit. The idea that you had to be authorized to enter surprised me, and apparently it surprised Mallory too.
“How do we get authorized?” she asked.
The guard pulled out a business card and handed it to her. Mallory stared down at it then pulled out her phone. She dialed the number, but judging by the look on her face, she didn't get the response she'd wanted. She frowned as she left a message.
“Mr. Santiago, my name is Mallory Spencer, and I'd appreciate it if you could give me a call back,” she said. “I have a question about one of your employees – Chris Sturgeon.”
The guard shrugged. “I wouldn't expect a reply. Mr. Santiago is a busy man.”
Mallory and I took a few steps back and stood there, staring at the otherwise nondescript building. Neither one of us had a clue what type of company it really was, Chris had never gone into any details about what they did. All he said was that it was boring work but paid a little better than most security gigs.
As we were preparing to walk away, a woman exited the building. She smiled at the guard, and he nodded to her. Her eyes slid over us, they way most people's do over a homeless person.
“Good morning, Julia,” he said.
Julia. Could it be?
She was a petite woman with large, brown eyes and long, caramel colored hair that fell down over her shoulders and almost to her waist. Her hair was thick and perfectly wavy – like something you'd see on the cover of a beauty magazine.
In fact, everything about this woman cried out “fashion model” except for her height – she was only five-two or five-three at most. She was a delicate little thing, but when she met my gaze again, she smiled and there was nothing delicate about that. It was almost a predatory grin – a sign that she liked what she saw as she looked me up and down.